BooksBarbecue
Back We Were Killers Once
Chapters (65)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Twelve
  16. Thirteen
  17. Fourteen
  18. Fifteen
  19. Sixteen
  20. Seventeen
  21. Eighteen
  22. Nineteen
  23. Twenty
  24. Twenty–one
  25. Twenty–two
  26. Twenty–three
  27. Twenty–four
  28. Twenty–five
  29. Twenty–six
  30. Twenty–seven
  31. Twenty–eight
  32. Twenty–nine
  33. Thirty
  34. Thirty–one
  35. Thirty–two
  36. Thirty–three
  37. Thirty–four
  38. Thirty–five
  39. Thirty–six
  40. Thirty–seven
  41. Thirty–eight
  42. Thirty–nine
  43. Forty
  44. Forty–one
  45. Forty–two
  46. Forty–three
  47. Forty–four
  48. Forty–five
  49. Forty–six
  50. Forty–seven
  51. Forty–eight
  52. Forty–nine
  53. Fifty
  54. Fifty–one
  55. Fifty–two
  56. Fifty–three
  57. Fifty–four
  58. Fifty–five
  59. Fifty–six
  60. Fifty–seven
  61. Author’s Note
  62. Acknowledgments
  63. Also by Becky Masterman
  64. About the Author
  65. Newsletter Sign-up

Back to the mountain. Everyone thinks of the desert as just hot and hotter. The fact is, thanks to a stronger than usual El Niño the Arizona temperatures were already in the forties at night. With the higher elevation, Kitt Peak promised to be colder than that after sunset, and it was already freezing on the summit on the afternoon we arrived. I was secretly glad that I was dropping Carlo off and taking Gemma-Kate out for a late dinner and a show. I had given her the choice of a new Bruce Willis movie or a live performance of The Nutcracker, which neither of us had ever seen. I was also glad she chose the movie.

As you come around the last curve you begin to see immense glowing white buildings that feel like an alien way station. There should be that music from 2001: A Space Odyssey. Really impressive, so I didn’t just dump Carlo off and run. I stayed long enough to show an interest in the huge complex, which he shared with the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old at Disney World. His glee was contagious, and I willingly walked up the hill to the elaborate four-story structure through which you could view the sun without being blinded. Then over to the opposite side of the compound, passing a low building with a sign outside that said, QUIET, ASTRONOMERS SLEEPING, and from there onto a narrow service road that curved along the cliff from which the big momma rose.

You take an elevator up to the top of this observatory where the telescope thrusts itself at the heavens in a way that seems arrogant. As if it could really see what can never be seen. The scope itself is about thirty feet tall and ten feet wide, so big that when you’re standing on one of the observation decks next to it, you can see the eyepiece. The observatory is not heated. The heat waves would create too much shimmer.

“It’s f-freezing up here,” I said, trying to draw my down jacket closer but never getting it close enough. We were standing on an inside catwalk that went all the way around the tower with windows overlooking miles of harsh desert punctuated with mountain ranges, and far off to the east, where the city lights couldn’t cause pollution in the dark sky, a glimpse of Tucson. “Are you sure you have enough warm clothes?” I asked.

Carlo lifted his sweatshirt to show another beneath it. “You should know. I think you emptied the coat closet into that duffle bag we brought,” he said, and then paused, something more interesting coming to his mind. “Your nose is so cute when it’s pink. You look like a bunny.” I put on my tough broad face, but he bent down from his considerable height to my inconsiderable one, and kissed said nose. The man does not let me get away with myself.